Flashbacks
by quil12
Summary: Living for hundreds of years guarantees that you're going to have forgotten something at some point or another in your life. So, for the countries, what are these little 'flashbacks' these things that they've forgotten?


Hello, thank you for choosing this story over all the other story brands you could have chosen. Please sit back, enjoy the popcorn (if you have popcorn), and enjoy the show!

 _Disclaimer: I most certainly do not own Hetalia or any of the things that I may reference._

(-)

America was currently at England's house on a short visit as he liked to do from time to time to annoy the older nation and to check up on him. England was currently busy with some 'urgent' paperwork so had told America to just wait in the sitting room until he had finished with the work. America, of course, had decided not to listen and had gone exploring around the house.

There were a lot of old things throughout the house, things that America didn't want to touch for fear of breaking them. He found something that he thought was pretty cool though – an old pirate hat sat on a shelf in a hallway. America vaguely remembered England talking about his pirate days, but he didn't remember all the stories, maybe he'd ask about them later.

Continuing to explore the house, America found some stairs that appeared to lead down into a basement. Deciding to see what was down there, America descended into the basement, turning on the light as he went so he could see.

When he reached the bottom, he was slightly disappointed, there didn't appear to be anything of note down here. That's when he noticed the door. It was a small wooden door on the far wall of the room that stood out because it was slightly ajar. Curious, America walked to the door and pushed it open.

Inside was a large room. Various shelves lined the walls, some with books on them and others with strange things that America had no idea what they were. In the middle of the room, a large circle was drawn in chalk with various other shapes inside it. In between the outside circle and a smaller circle drawn inside of it was writing.

"Pale white and black with false citrine imperfect white and red…" America read," What is this?"

"America, what are you doing?" England suddenly said, appearing in the doorway.

America turned around slowly," Uh, nothing, just looking around."

England sighed," I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from looking around without my permission."

America shrugged this off," Anyway, what's this room?"

England sighed again, he guessed he'd have to tell him or else the stupid American wouldn't shut up about it," This is where I do my magic."

"Magic?" America said incredulously.

"Yes, magic." England replied.

"I don't believe you," America said like a true skeptic," Show me."

England shook his head," Hell no, especially not after what happened last time."

"After what happened last time?" America asked.

England stared at America," Don't tell me you don't remember."

"Don't remember what…?" America trailed off because suddenly, he remembered something, it was like a dam had been broken inside his head and memories came flooding into him.

(…)

When America was still a colony:

America was bored out of his mind. He was all alone in the house because France and England had gone into town and Canada had wanted to go with them. He was starting to regret his decision to stay behind now.

Trying to find some way to relieve the boredom, America was wandering around the house, willing something interesting to come up. Then, as if his wish was coming true, America found something. He'd been dragging his hand against the wall and when his hand hit one of the panels, it moved a little bit!

Excited by this discovery, America pushed on the panel, and it was soon revealed that this panel was a secret door. The boy looked down into the inky blackness of the stairwell this secret door led to. Deciding it best to come back with a candle, he ran off to go grab one.

He found the candle and some matches. He wasn't exactly supposed to light candles by himself, but he did it anyway. He went back to the door and walked down the stairs, holding the candle out in front of him to illuminate his surroundings.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he was slightly disappointed, all that was down there was a locked door. He then thought for a moment as to where the key would be, then he came up with an idea. England liked creepy stuff like this, so it was probably his basement, that narrowed down the places he'd have to look, maybe it'd be in his bedroom?

America ran up the stairs and out of the secret basement, immediately going up the other flight of stairs to get to the upstairs portion of the house. Then, feeling sneaky, he made his way to England's room and opened the door.

Everything in the room was well organized and neat. Ignoring the neatness of the room, America started looking around for something that could contain a key. After about a minute of searching, he saw something that could be it, a small box sitting on top of the dresser on the wall opposite the bed. The only problem was that he couldn't really reach it.

America looked up at the box, cursing his tiny stature. He wished that he could suddenly grow a few feet and open the box. Looking around the room for something that could help him reach his goal, America saw nothing. Then he remembered something, there was a chair in his and Canada's room that he could use as a footstool.

Excited by this idea, America ran into the room and picked up the chair, carrying it out of the shared bedroom and into England's. He put the chair down next to the dresser and climbed on top of it. He was now tall enough to reach the box. He reached over, grabbed it, and opened it up, and sure enough, inside was a key!

"Yes! Victory!" America exclaimed enthusiastically.

He took the key, then put the box back. Then he grabbed the chair and took it back to his and Canada's room. After that, he gleefully ran back down the stairs and back through the secret door. He'd left the candle still burning down here so it was still pretty light.

America put the key in the lock as soon as he reached it. The key fit and the door became unlocked with a satisfying click. Grinning, America stepped into the room. He wasn't really expecting what he saw. Inside the room had a very creepy aura to it and that aura was intensified with the contents of the room. There were shelves lined up all along the walls, and only one or two contained books, the rest had strange things that America had never seen before in various jars placed on the shelves.

America walked around the room, looking at random objects, trying to figure out what this room was used for. He was so engrossed in trying to figure it out that he didn't even notice the footsteps coming up to the door until it was too late.

"America," said England," What are you doing?"

America jumped slightly at the sudden appearance but calmed down when he saw it was just England," Oh, I got bored and I found this place. What do you do down here anyway?"

England sighed," Magic," he said.

America's eyes lit up," Magic! That's so cool!"

England smiled slightly at his enthusiasm.

"Will you show me?" America asked somewhat excitedly.

"I don't know, it can be dangerous…" England said.

"Please!" America gave his best puppy-dog eyes.

England couldn't resist the puppy-dog eyes," Fine," he said," I guess one spell won't hurt."

"Yay! Thank you!" America responded.

With that, England got to work preparing a small spell, it would be a simple summoning spell, maybe summoning a pretty stone or a sea-shell. America watched wide-eyed as he worked, curious as to what was going to happen.

After a few minutes, England had finished setting up. He started saying a few words that America had no idea what they meant. After he finished saying the words, a white light filled the room and America passed out.

After the light faded, England was slightly confused as to why he'd summoned nothing.

"Huh, I guess it didn't work, sorry America."

There was no reply from the boy. England looked around and didn't see him anywhere in the room," America?"

(…)

When America woke up, he was in a forest clearing. He got up slowly got up and looked around. There were tall pine trees all around him and the grass he was standing on felt wet. It appeared to be almost sunset, but that was weird as it hadn't even been noon yet last he remembered. It was also quite cold here and America wasn't dressed for chilly weather.

The one question that was running through America's mind was, how did he get here. He remembered talking to England about magic, and then a flash of light, but that was all he remembered. Not knowing what to do, America picked a direction at random and started walking into the forest.

(…)

About ten minutes of walking later, America heard footsteps approaching him.

"Oi, boy, what are you doing out here by yourself?" An accented voice said. The accent reminded America slightly of England's accent, but it was different somehow.

America looked at the source of the voice and found a man with auburn hair and emerald green eyes.

"Um…" America started, not entirely sure how to describe his situation," I don't really know, I just got lost."

The man gave a flustered sigh, he clearly didn't want to leave America out here by himself, but it probably seemed troublesome to him to help him," What's your name, boy?"

"Oh, I'm Am- er Alfred," America said, almost referring to himself as his country name to someone that was presumably human.

"I'm Allistor," he said simply.

"It's nice to meet you, Allistor," America said.

"Yeah, you too," Allistor replied," If you want, you can come stay at my house and we can find your parents in the morning," he offered as kindly as he could.

"I don't know," America said," England said that I shouldn't go with strangers…"

"England!?" Allistor exclaimed, seeming surprised.

America realized his mistake," Uh, I meant Arthur," he lied.

Allistor stared at the boy," Okay, now you really are going to come with me," he said before grabbing America's hand and leading him through the woods.

"Wait, where are we going?" America asked, confused," And do you know England?"

"We're going to my house, and yes, I know England, he's my little brother," Allistor replied.

"Little brother…?" America trailed off," Then who exactly are you?"

Allistor looked behind him at America and smiled," I'm Scotland."

(…)

England was currently freaking out. He must have done something wrong with the spell and teleported America somewhere. He was looking through books trying to figure out where America was, but until he knew exactly what he'd done wrong with the spell, there was no way to figure that out.

Giving up on trying to figure this out on his own, he ran upstairs, he needed to tell France what he'd done. He found France and he started talking really fast.

"France, AmericawantedtoseemagicsoIdecidedtoshowittohimbutthensomethingwentwrongandnowhe'sgone!"

France looked at England incredulously, surprised that he could talk so fast, but not understanding a single word of what was just said.

"Calm down, mon ami, say it more slowly this time." France told him.

England took a deep breath," America wanted to see me do magic, but something in the spell went wrong and so I accidentally teleported him somewhere and I'm not sure where."

France looked at England," Well, I suppose that is a problem," he said," Is there anything you can do to track him?"

England shook his head," No, I've tried everything I can think of, but nothing will work."

All this time, Canada had been listening in on the conversation from the doorway, and he was somewhat frightened for his brother. Deciding to speak up, he asked," Is America going to be okay?"

Both adults turned in alarm, they hadn't noticed Canada standing in the doorway.

France was the first to reply, going over to the boy and picking him up," Of course he'll be okay, mon cher."

Canada seemed somewhat relieved at this," Okay," he said.

England wished he could be reassured as quickly as Canada. As of right now, he had no idea where America was or if he was in danger or not.

 _Please be okay, America,_ he thought.

(…)

America and Scotland and reached Scotland's house and America was not impressed.

"I thought most countries lived in fancy mansions," America said, staring up at the cabin they'd ended up in front of.

"Normally I do," Scotland admitted," But I'm currently on a little vacation in the woods, do you have a problem with that?"

"Oh, no," America replied quickly," I was just wondering."

Scotland said nothing in reply, just opened the door and stepped inside. America quickly followed him, quickly taking in the inside of the cabin. There was one large room and three doors on various walls. The main room consisted of a kitchen, dining room, and sitting room all in one.

"By the way," Scotland said, closing the door behind them," You never properly introduced yourself."

"Oh," America said, realizing he'd only ever given his human name," I'm America!"

"America, huh…" Scotland said, trailing off," Anyway, what happened to you that caused you to wind up here?"

"Um," America thought for a moment," Well, I was curious about England's magic, so I asked him to show it to me, then there was this bright flash of light and the next thing I knew, I was waking up here."

Scotland nodded," The idiot probably got something wrong with the spell he was trying to do."

"You think so?" America asked.

"Yeah, he isn't exactly the best at magic, anyway, you're probably tired aren't you?"

"Yeah," America yawned, suddenly realizing how exhausted he felt.

"Teleportation tends to put strain like that on the people involved with it," Scotland explained," You can use that bedroom there," he pointed to the door to the left of them.

"Okay," America said," Thank you."

Scotland nodded," No problem."

As soon as America disappeared into the room, Scotland walked into his study, he needed to write a letter to England telling him where America was. He started writing and before he knew it, he was finished. It was a brief letter, but it got the point across. He reread it again to himself:

 _Dear England,_

 _How've you been, haven't seen you for a while. Just thought I'd let you know about your little spell malfunction. America ended up here by the way, so you don't have to worry about whether or not he's safe. I'll let him stay with me until you can come get him. To make it simpler, I'll even meet you in London four months after writing this letter. Have a nice trip._

 _-Scotland_

Scotland smiled to himself. He'd go into town and send it tomorrow, he'd probably bring America with him to go clothes shopping too as all the boy currently had were the clothes he'd arrived in.

(…)

It was the next day and Scotland and America were currently heading into town. The two were about halfway there and the silence that had been there between them had been bugging America the entire time.

"So…" America said, trying to start a conversation.

Scotland looked at America," Yeah?" he asked.

"Uh, nothing, just being quiet for so long is weird."

Scotland mumbled something America couldn't really hear and they continued on in silence. The walk into town only took about twenty minutes on foot, so they were there in about ten minutes time.

The first thing Scotland did was go to the post office to send the letter to England. He walked inside the old building and handed the letter to the man behind the counter. He then paid for using the service and left.

America had waited outside for Scotland to come back out and was glad when he finally did, because for the small boy, waiting two minutes felt like an eternity.

"So what are we going to do next?" America asked energetically.

"We're going to get you some new clothes, it's not good to have only one outfit," Scotland replied.

"Okay," America said.

Scotland started walking toward a small clothes shop that he knew with America following close behind. A few of the townspeople stopped and offered small greetings to the older nation to which he kindheartedly replied to, it was clear that he like all of his people and knew a lot of them in this town.

America and Scotland entered the clothes shop and America was instantly off looking at all the clothes, it was fun to look at the different colours and styles of the clothes. Scotland watched him with little interest, he didn't really care about clothes that much as long as he had some to wear.

"Pick out something you want," Scotland told America.

"Okay," America said, looking for something that he'd like.

After a few minutes of looking, America found some clothes that he liked. It was more English than Scottish clothing, but America didn't want to wear a man-skirt.

Scotland paid for the clothes that America had picked out and they left the store. During the walk back, America was a lot more eager to get to their destination; he had new clothes to try on!

The twenty minute walk passed by in silence and when they got back, America darted into his room to try on the new clothes.

Scotland watched this behavior oddly, it was weird to him that America was so excited for clothes. He shrugged this off and pulled a book off a bookshelf, sat on a chair, and started reading it.

America looked at himself in the mirror in his room, he looked quite cute, maybe even cute enough to be manipulative if need be. He was quite pleased with himself for picking out these clothes.

Deciding that he was hungry, America left his room to go ask for food, but as soon as he stepped out, Scotland said," Oh, America, if you're going to be living here, you're going to have to help do chores."

"Chores?" America asked.

Scotland looked up from his book," Yes, chores, cleaning, cutting firewood, that sort of thing."

"Okay," America agreed reluctantly, not really wanting to do anything like that," By the way, I'm hungry."

"You can eat after you do chores," Scotland said.

"What!" America exclaimed, he was hungry NOW!

Scotland chuckled a bit at his reaction and said," If you don't do work, you don't get to eat."

America looked somewhat panicked at this," Okay, what do you want me to do?"

"Do you know how to chop firewood?" Scotland asked.

America shook his head, he wasn't usually trusted with sharp objects.

Scotland sighed," Alright, I'll teach you how to do it," then he muttered," What has England been teaching him? Probably nothing…"

"Okay," America said.

Scotland walked outside with America following him. He brought him to a large stump behind the house. Next to the stump, there was a large pile of logs, waiting to be turned into useable firewood.

Scotland showed America how to hold an ax, and America seemed very unsure of himself, feeling like he was going to mess up and cut himself on the blade.

After a somewhat short lesson on how to cut the logs, Scotland let America do it himself, but he stood back and supervised for a while so the boy didn't hurt himself. When an ample supply of logs had been cut, Scotland said," Bring them inside now, it's starting to get cold out so a fire will be nice tonight."

America nodded, glad to stop the awkward swinging of the ax that he was currently doing. He set the ax down and grabbed an armful of logs – about four could fit in his small arms. He then brought all he could inside, Scotland helped him with this part and America was quite happy for the assistance.

Only after they'd done this did Scotland let America eat, and America knew then that he'd have to work in order to get fed… he didn't like this system.

(…)

It was about two months later and England was still having no luck finding out where America had gone. He was currently sitting in the lounge feeling very discouraged and hopeless about the whole thing.

That's when France came back from a trip into town," England," he said," You have a letter."

"Who's it from?" he asked unenthusiastically.

"Scotland," France replied.

England sighed," Give it here."

France handed him the letter.

England opened it and unfolded the letter inside. As he read, his eyes lit up and all of the worry he had over America's safety disappeared. He trusted Scotland to look after him.

"What is it?" France asked him as he saw England's reaction.

"Scotland has America," England replied.

"Oh, that's good," France said, smiling, glad that America would be safe.

"I'm going to go to London to meet them," England told him.

"Alright," France said.

With that, England quickly packed a bag and got on the earliest boat to London.

(…)

Over the past two months, America had gotten quite used to Scotland's way of doing things; it was simply equivalent exchange. He'd do work and then he'd get food. It also made his life slightly more interesting than just being inside all day playing random games by himself.

This mindset changed once it started snowing. All America wanted to do was go outside and play in the snow, but he couldn't do that as freely as he would have liked do to the chores he had to do. He was quite vexed by the situation. All he wanted to do was play outside without worrying about chores, but that wasn't really an option currently.

"Hey Scot-" America was cut off.

"No, not until you do your chores."

"But-"

"Well, you _could_ go I suppose, if you don't want anything to eat today."

Grumbling to himself, America got on with his chores, food was one thing he didn't want to be in jeopardy.

(…)

About two hours later, America was finally done with his chores, so he could finally go outside and play in the snow!

He was so excited he didn't even bother to ask for a jacket as he ran out the door and into the powdery fields of snow. The boy enjoyed playing in it for a while, he ran around and built things out of the snow like snowmen and a small snowfort.

Eventually, America started getting really cold (he didn't have a jacket or gloves…), so he decided to go inside. America opened the door of the cabin and walked inside of it, the contrast of the air inside versus the air outside made him feel like his skin was burning.

As America walked in, Scotland looked up… and sighed," Did you really go outside without a jacket?"

America nodded his head.

"You're an idiot," Scotland told him.

As of this point in time, America felt too cold to answer back. Scotland got up, picked up a blanket, and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders. America was grateful for this extra warmth.

"Th-thank you," America said, his teeth chattering from the cold.

"Yeah," Scotland replied," I'll go make you some tea to warm yourself up."

"Okay," America said, glad that the Scottish man was looking out for him.

(…)

It was almost two months later and it was about time for America and Scotland to head off to London to meet up with England. Scotland had been trying to prorogue this trip for as long as possible so the amount of time they'd have to wait would be lessened.

The two found a carriage that would take them all the way to London and got on it. America was instantly bored with the traveling and was jumping around all over the place, rambling on about random things. Scotland sighed, this was going to be a long trip.

(…)

It was the night after America and Scotland had arrived in London. When they'd first gotten there, America had been amazed by the city, it was like nothing he'd ever seen before, and he thought it was quite beautiful.

This happened to be the night that the boat the England had been traveling on arrived in the London harbors.

England stepped off the boat and looked at London. He always loved coming back to the city, it made him feel calm and safe. Keeping the feeling of home in the back of his mind, England set off toward his house; if America and Scotland were here, that's where they'd be.

England wound his way through the labyrinth of familiar streets that he knew the name of by heart. He ended up in front of a fairly large house. It was his house.

He got a ring of keys that he always carried with him out of his pocket and found the one that would open the front door. He placed the key in the lock and turned it, opening the door.

Scotland looked up as he heard the door open, then, seeing who it was, he said," He's upstairs in the main guest bedroom. I put him to bed about an hour ago."

England just nodded before starting to head up the stairs, then deciding it felt somewhat awkward to leave it just at that, he peaked his head around the corner of the stairs and looked at where Scotland was sitting," Thank you," he said before climbing up the rest of the stairs.

England got to the door of the room that America was staying in. He placed his hand on the doorknob before gently twisting it open.

He stepped into the darkness of the room and he heard the steady sound of breathing. He walked over to where the bed was in the corner and looked down at America, sound asleep with a peaceful expression on his face.

England debated whether or not to wake him up before deciding on yes. He was feeling too anxious to wait any longer.

He sat down on the bed and softly placed his hand on America's shoulder," Hey America, wake up," he said, gently shaking him.

"Wha…" America trailed off sleepily, not quite registering what was going on. Then, he realized who it was he was seeing," England," he said, his eyes inundated with tears.

America quickly sat up and buried his face in England's chest," I missed you," he mumbled.

A smiled tugged at England's lips as he wrapped his arms around the boy," I missed you too, America."

The two stayed like that for a few more seconds before America pulled away and asked," Um, I was wondering if that maybe since you're here, I could sleep with you tonight?"

England's smile grew wider at this," If you want to, of course you can."

"Yay!" America celebrated. He was excited to spend the night with England after about four months of being apart.

"Do you want to go now?" England asked as he felt somewhat tired from the traveling that he'd been doing.

America yawned, realizing just how tired he was," Yeah. I'm ready for bed.

"All right then, let's go!" England said.

America gave a small yelp as he was suddenly lifted up into the air by the older man. England carried him to where his bedroom was. Even though the room was dark, England could tell that the room was exactly as he had left it; the only exception being that the window was open, but that had probably been Scotland trying to be helpful by airing out the room before he got there.

He set America down on the bed and went over to the wardrobe to get changed into pajamas. He did this quickly, leaving the clothes he had been wearing in a small pile on the floor – he'd take care of them in the morning – then collapsed on the bed next to America.

"I'm happy you're back," America said after a minute of lying there.

England glanced at him for a moment, and closed his eyes," I'm just glad that you're alright."

America looked puzzled," Why wouldn't I be alright? Scotland isn't always the nicest, but he made sure I didn't get hurt."

"No reason," England said, deciding not to bring up that it hadn't been his decision as to where to send him. "So," he said, changing the subject," How do you like London so far?"

"It's big," was all America said.

England laughed at that answer," I guess it would seem like that for you, I'm quite used to it by now."

"So how long are we going to stay here?" America asked.

England thought for a minute," Well, I have a few things that I'd like to take care of while I'm here, so, I'd say a week.

"Okay," America yawned sleepily; he was about to fall asleep.

A smile tugged at England's lips, he really loved America," Good night," he said.

"Good night," America mumbled.

(…)

It was the next morning and Scotland had decided that it was time for him to leave – he'd played his part in all this. He walked to England's room and knocked on the door.

"Come in," a sleepy, somewhat muffled voice replied.

Scotland opened the door and took in the scene in front of him; America was pressed up against England's side, England's arm wrapped around the small boy. England was looking up at Scotland expectantly.

"I just thought that I'd let you know that I'm leaving now," Scotland said.

"Leaving?" England asked.

"Yeah," Scotland replied," I figure that you can take care of yourself from here."

"Alright," England.

Scotland turned around to leave the room.

"Um…Scotland…" England started.

Scotland turned around to look at his brother.

"Thank you again for looking after America."

Scotland gave a very slight nod and left the room, a smile on his face. Oh, how he enjoyed making his brother uncomfortable like that!

(…)

The next two days passed by fairly calmly. England went to see some people higher up in his government, America really didn't care who. The past two nights, England had been taking him out to look around the city. America enjoyed this a lot. There was a lot to explore and see, as he walked around with England, one thought that he constantly had was, _I'm never going to have a city as big as this._

This night had proceeded very similarly to the others and they had just gotten back. England cooked them dinner and America ate it. He didn't understand it when other people said that England couldn't cook; it tasted just fine to him. Canada had actually called him a freak once for eating his cooking and not being disgusted once though…

At about nine – thirty, England told America to go to bed. America begrudgingly agreed, mainly because he felt very sleepy for some reason. He went up the stairs to the guest bedroom that he was using as his room for the time being. Groggily, he changed into his pajamas and got into bed. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

When America woke up, he felt less than fine. He was covered in sweat and his head felt like someone was pounding against it with a hammer. He lay there for a minute, wallowing in his pain, tears starting to well up in his eyes.

He decided to go tell England that he didn't feel very good and got out of bed. When he stood up, everything swam around him, and he had to stand still for a while to get rid of the dizziness. When he opened the door, he noticed that there was still light coming from downstairs. He walked down the stairs to try and find England.

He found the man pretty quickly," England," He said to get his attention.

England looked up quickly from the book he had been reading, saw America and asked," What's wrong?"

"I don't feel good," America replied.

England frowned, put his book down and walked over to him. The first thing he did was feel the boy's forehead," You do feel rather warm…" England observed.

"And my head hurts," America added.

"For now, why don't you go to sleep, alright?"

America just nodded once and held his arms out to be picked up.

England complied and lifted the boy up, taking him upstairs to the room that he was using. He set him down on the bed tucked him in.

"England," America mumbled.

"Yes?"

"Will you say here a while?"

"Of course," England replied.

While he waited for America to fall asleep, England tried to figure out what had caused him to get sick – he'd seemed fine a few hours before. He thought for a while before he came up with a theory he thought was somewhat plausible. America could have simply been out of America for too long. Personifications had a strong connection with that land that they actually personified and America was still young, the fact that he'd been out of that land for four months was quite impressive if that connection helped keep them healthy.

England decided then that he'd try to take America back as soon as he possibly could. He didn't like to see the kid sick or in pain.

(…)

The next morning, England was in America's room as early as he could be without seeming too obsessive. The first thing he did when he went in was feel his forehead; it still felt unnaturally warm so he obviously still had a fever.

England went downstairs and got a washcloth which he put cool water on. He then went back upstairs to America's room and placed the cloth on his forehead. As soon as he did this, America's eyes fluttered open.

"England…" He murmured.

"Oh," England said," I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry."

America looked up at him, his brain taking a moment to actually register what he had just said," That's alright," he said.

"Are you feeling any better?" England asked.

"A little bit," America replied.

"That's good," England said," Are you hungry at all?"

America visibly flinched at the mentioned at the mention of food and shook his head.

"Alright," England said," I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

America nodded," Alright."

America didn't really want England to leave, but he didn't say anything because he didn't want to be a burden on the older man. He watched in silence as he left, wanting to say something, but he didn't. A minute after he left, he closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

As England walked downstairs, he wondered if he should've left America alone, but he figured that if the boy needed him, then he could get him fairly easily.

(…)

It was quite a few hours later and England was going up to check on America, but this time he had brought tea. He knocked on the door twice before entering. America had woken up from the knocking and rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"Hello, America. How are you feeling?" England asked him.

America yawned. In reality, he felt quite a lot better," A lot better," America replied.

"I'm glad," England said, then he held up the tea cup he held," Would you like some tea?"

"Uh, sure," America said.

England handed the cup to America, he took it and took a small sip of the drink. He actually liked tea quite a lot, but usually he'd pretend like he didn't just to annoy England. Today was an exception to that as he wanted him to stay for as long as possible and being annoying probably wouldn't make him want to stay.

"Hey, England," America said.

"Yes?" England replied.

"When are we going back home?"

"Well, I was thinking the day after tomorrow. That is assuming you're not still ill."

America nodded," Okay, I'll just have to work really hard to make sure I'm not sick then!"

This made England laugh," I'm not sure working will make you get better."

America frowned at the logic, not being able to come up with a comeback, he just continued quietly sipping his tea.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before England said," Well, I suppose I should be going now. Call if you need anything."

England got up and started walking toward the door.

"Um, England," America called.

England turned around, a questioning look on his face," What is it?"

"Um, will you stay here for a little while? You don't have to stay for long, just a few minutes," America responded.

A slight smile tugged at England's lips," Of course."

He walked back over to the bed and sat down next to America," What would you like to talk about?" He asked.

(…)

It was now the day they were supposed to be leaving. It would take two months on a boat to get back to America.

They were about to leave the house and head to the port to where the boat would set sail from. America was mostly better; he just had the slight remains of a fever left, but England had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn't get entirely better until they returned to America.

The two started walking to the port, America holding tightly to England's hand so they wouldn't get separated in all the people that were wandering around the city. America was quite amazed that England knew how to get around the city so well. It seemed so big and confusing to the small boy, it was amazing to him that anyone could navigate a city this big so well.

A few minutes later, they reached the port and America looked up at all the big boats – he'd never seen so many before. England didn't give the boats any special attention as he weaved his way through to the docks. They ended up in front of a rather large boat that a few people were getting on.

There was a man at the front checking papers before people went on. When it was England and America's turn, the man glanced over them briefly then in a gruff voice said," Boarding passes."

England reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of paper which he presented to the man. The man took the papers and looked them over. They were simple documents that just said things like name, age, occupation, etc.

"Alright," he said," Everything looks to be fine." He handed the papers back to England.

"Thank you, sir," England said, polite as always.

America followed England closely as they boarded the ship. The ship wasn't overly fancy, but it wasn't a mess either. It seemed to be overly middle class, but it was one of the fanciest ships America had ever been on.

He looked around excitedly while following England. It was kind of unnerving to have to be on a boat for two months, but cool at the same time. Maybe England would tell him some of his pirate stories since they were on a boat. He always wanted those stories, but rarely ever got them unless the older man was in a story – telling mood.

They stopped outside of a door which England opened. America peered inside. It appeared to be a room. There were two beds inside as well as a small couch. A desk was pressed up against the wall in the back of the room with a chair slid underneath it.

"Well, this is our room for the next two months," England said.

They walked inside the room and set down the meager bags of clothes and small possessions they were both carrying. America sat down on the couch, wanting the boat ride to be over and for them to be home. Of course, that was still a long way off as they hadn't even set sail yet.

"Why is the world so big?" America wondered out loud.

"What do you mean?" England asked, a slightly confused look on his face.

"It takes so long to get from one place to another. Why does it have to take two months to go across the ocean?"

England sat down next to America on the couch," I don't know, that's just how the world is."

"Why can't it be like with Scotland though? It didn't take very long at all to get to London."

"That's just because Scotland is close to London. Boston and New York and all of those places are far away from it."

"Does that mean we're far apart?" America asked.

"Geographically speaking, yes, but- "

England was cut off by America's somewhat panicked voice," But I don't want to be far away from you! You're my brother, I love you, I don't want to be away from you, and – "

"America," England interrupted," Geographically speaking, we are relatively far apart, but that doesn't necessarily mean that _we_ have to be."

America, who had tears in his eyes, nodded and said," Promise that you won't ever be away from me."

England smiled," I promise, America."

America copied England's smile and hugged the older man. England was pleasantly surprised at this show of affection and wrapped his arms tightly around America.

After a few seconds, America pulled out of the hug and laid his head down on England's arm, yawning. He had gotten up early in the morning and was still slightly sick, so he was pretty sleepy.

"I can't wait until we get home," America yawned, closing his eyes. "I'm excited to see Canada again…"

(…)

The boat trip was pretty uneventful, that is until the last few days.

A couple of days before they were supposed to land in Boston, America got sick again. He woke up in the middle of the night feeling uncomfortably warm and his head felt like it was splitting down the middle. He was about to call for England, who was sleeping in the other bed in the room, but then, he started coughing. It went on for a whole twenty or twenty – five seconds, and by that point, it had woken England up.

England got up and walked over to America's bed. He knew that he was sick, so he didn't even bother asking. Instead, he sat down on the bed, pulled America's head into his lap, and soothingly stroked his head, hoping that it would make him feel better.

America was very quietly crying. He hurt, a lot. First, his head was exploding from the headache, and now his throat was sore from all the coughing. He felt England stroking his head, and it felt nice and comforting to the sick boy.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep so that the pain would go away. Unfortunately, the headache was slightly preventing this, and the sleep he desired wouldn't come. After a few minutes, the pain starting getting stronger and a whimper escaped his lips.

"America," England said, hearing the whimper," What exactly hurts?"

"My head and my throat," America replied, his voice slightly raspy.

England nodded. He could make some tea to help with his throat (tea _is_ the solution to everything after all), and he had a trick to help with headaches.

"Alright, I'll make you some tea for your throat, okay?"

America nodded," Okay."

England gently took America's head from his lap and placed it on the pillow. There was a small kitchen behind a door inside the room and England used that to make the tea.

It took a few minutes, but eventually the tea was done and England brought a cup of it to America. He helped him sit up and handed him the cup. America took it gratefully and started drinking from it. It made his throat feel better at least for the time being.

England just sat and watched as America drank his tea, not quite sure what to say.

After a couple of minutes had passed, America had drunk all he had wanted of the tea and he set the cup down.

"Does your throat feel better now?" England asked.

America nodded," Yeah, but how do I get rid of the headache?" He asked, tears in his eyes from the intensity of it.

"Well, what I find helps when I have a headache is to think about other things. It helps distract from the pain," England replied.

"But, what do I think about? All that I can think about is the headache."

England thought for a moment," Think about how you're going to be home soon and that you'll get to see Canada again and finally have someone to play with."

America seemed skeptical about this working, but closed his eyes and thought of a few days from now. He didn't even realize it until he woke up the next morning that he had fallen asleep.

(…)

England was standing on the deck of the ship, smiling. In the distance, he could see land. The journey was almost finished. Maybe once they landed, America would start to feel better and go back to his usual hyper, happy-go-lucky self.

He walked back to the room and starting putting their things into bags. America was sleeping, so he decided not to wake him up until they landed. He left out some proper clothes for the boy though; it wouldn't be good for him to wander through the streets in pajamas.

He then took one of his books and sat down to read until it was time to get off the boat.

(…)

About an hour later, they were at the dock in Boston.

England got up, placed the book he had been reading in his bag and walked over to America," Hey, America," he said," Wake up, we're here."

"Huh…" America said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

He grabbed the clothes he had left out for America and gave them to him," Here, change into these."

"Okay…" America said obediently, still too half asleep to really register what was going on.

He changed out of his pajamas and put them in the bag. That's when it finally caught up to him what was going on, the boat ride was over, and they were finally home!

The two walked out of the room they had lived in for two months and proceeded to walk out onto the deck of the ship where many passengers were getting off of the boat and into Boston.

America followed closely behind England and followed him off the boat, still feeling slightly sick, but as soon as his feet touched solid ground, something happened and he just felt… fantastic!

England noticed that America seemed to be less sickly and more energetic as they walked. It was probably because he was back in the place where he belonged.

Their house was a little ways outside Boston in a secluded part of forest, and England decided that they could make it there before nightfall, so they started heading out toward the house.

(…)

When they reached the house, it was evening and America excitedly ran up to the door and flung it open. England followed him much more calmly.

As America came running in, France, who was cooking something in the kitchen looked up in surprise. "Oh, America," he said when he realized who it was," I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah," America said, not really paying attention to what he was saying," Where's Canada?"

"Last time I checked, he was in the backyard with his bear," France replied.

"'Kay, thanks," America said before running off to the backyard.

After that exchange, England finally made his way inside.

"Oh, Angleterre," France said," How was your trip?"

"Fine," England replied, kind of wanting to go to bed after traveling for so long.

Meanwhile, America had gone into the backyard where he had found his brother," CANADA!" He yelled before glomping him.

Canada was not ready for this, in fact, he hadn't even seen America until he had been about a foot away from him. This coupled with America's strength, caused the two to fall down onto the ground, America laughing and Canada just feeling surprised and shocked.

"I missed you," America said, still hugging his brother that he hadn't seen in nearly six months.

Canada smiled," I missed you too, America."

(…)

Back to present day:

America smiled," Yeah, I remember now. When I came back I tackled Canada…"

England pinched the bridge of his nose," Don't tell me that's all you've remembered."

"Nah, I remember all of it, but that would've been a good football tackle…"

England sighed, deciding to ignore America's current stupidness," At any rate, let's get out of the basement."

"Okay," America agreed, following him upstairs.

"So," England said," How did you even forget all of that in the first place? It seems like something that you'd remember."

America shrugged," I don't know, I guess I just blocked it out after –" He cut himself off from what he was saying.

He had been about to say, _after the Revolution,_ but he had stopped himself from bringing up the touchy subject between him and England. It made sense that he would want to after all; he had made England promise him that they would always be together and that didn't end very well.

England didn't question what the last part of the sentence was going to be – he had figured it out on his own. "Yes, I guess you must have."

America saw the look of sadness fall over England's face as he looked at him. It made him feel bad for bringing it up," Uh, England, dude, I'm sorry –"

England cut him off," No, it's okay."

America could still tell that he was sad, but then he had an idea," Even though the world is huge, and we're really far apart, we're still friends, and we always will be!" America said, referencing what he had said many years ago.

This made England smile," Yes, I suppose we are."

(-)

Whew, I finally finished this! I think this is one of the longest things I've ever written (definitely the longest chapter) that's not a huge multi-chapter story, so cheers to that. (This is 33 pages long it's kind of ridiculous if you ask me). Anyway, thank you for reading this chapter, I really appreciate it. I think I kind of made Scotland feel like Halt from the book series Ranger's Apprentice though, so if you've read that, I'm sure you noticed that little quirk. So anyway, for this story, I want to do a thing so I don't run out of chapter ideas. I want readers to review with ideas for chapters and I'll try to do as many as I can. The only theme is that I'm trying to do all flashbacks or things not occurring in modern day, so if you have any ideas, please share them! Well, enough of my author's note, goodbye!


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